When a Marriage Ends: Who Pays the Price?

This Blog is Written by Rajalakshmi Ganesan, 3rd Year, LLB, Renaissance University, Indore.

Blog 30 | Edition VII

Marriage is supposed to run on companionship and mutual support. When it collapses, though, the courts are left holding a much narrower question: what happens to the spouse who walks away with less money and fewer options? People often talk about maintenance law as though it's a weapon something one spouse uses to punish the other. That's a misreading of what the law is actually trying to do. Maintenance isn't a penalty, and it isn't a reward either. It exists so that one person doesn't end up destitute while the other keeps living comfortably, simply because a marriage didn't survive. Indian family law is constantly trying to hold two things in tension: a person's right to financial independence, and the responsibilities that come out of a marriage.

Where the Law Comes From?

There's no single provision that governs maintenance. Depending on the situation, a spouse might turn to different statutes entirely. Under the Hindu Marriage Act, 1955, Section 24 covers maintenance during the pendency of proceedings essentially, the cost of the litigation itself while Section 25 deals with permanent alimony. Section 24 exists because someone recognized a basic problem: fighting a legal battle costs money, and a spouse without independent income shouldn't be handicapped in court just because the other side has deeper pockets. Then there's Section 144 of the Bhartiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, 2023, which covers maintenance for wives, children, and parents carrying forward what Section 125 of the old CrPC used to do. None of these provisions ask a narrow, technical question like "can this person theoretically earn a living?" The real question courts are meant to ask is whether what a spouse already has is enough to live on with some dignity.

What Rajnesh v. Neha Changed

The Supreme Court's ruling in Rajnesh v. Neha, (2021) 2 SCC 324, is probably the single most cited authority on this subject today. It tried to bring some order to what had been a fairly inconsistent area of law by laying out the factors courts should weigh income, financial status, genuine needs, dependents, liabilities, and so on. But the more interesting part of that judgment isn't the checklist. It's the Court's recognition that maintenance disputes drag on partly because parties hide or misrepresent their finances. So the Court built in disclosure requirements asset and liability statements to stop cases from being decided in the dark. The underlying point is simple enough: you can't fairly work out maintenance without knowing what both people actually have.

Does Being Educated or Employed Rule Out a Maintenance Claim?

This is where a lot of confusion creeps in. Having a degree doesn't disqualify a woman from claiming maintenance. Neither does having a job. In Sunita Kachwaha v. Anil Kachwaha, (2014) 16 SCC 715, the Supreme Court pushed back on the idea that employment alone kills a maintenance claim. The distinction courts keep drawing is between earning something and being genuinely selfsufficient. A woman making ₹20,000 a month isn't in the same financial position as a spouse making ₹2,00,000 per month, even though technically both have "an income." Maintenance law is meant to look at the real numbers, not just tick a box that says "employed: yes/no."

But Maintenance Isn't a Blank Check Either

There's a counterweight to all this. Maintenance shouldn't turn into an automatic penalty imposed on whoever's marriage failed. Courts are expected to actually look at things like real earning capacity, what the person genuinely needs, the standard of living the couple had during the marriage, whether there are children to support, existing liabilities and assets, and where it's legally relevant conduct. The Supreme Court has recently reaffirmed that Sections 24 and 25 involve real judicial discretion, not a fixed formula. So, maintenance isn't punishment, and it isn't a ticket to an unlimited lifestyle either. It's meant to land somewhere in the middle fairness, not a windfall.

Children Are Not Leverage

Custody disputes run on an entirely different logic: the welfare of the child comes first, full stop. In Nil Ratan Kundu v. Abhijit Kundu, (2008) 9 SCC 413, the Court made clear that custody can't be reduced to a contest over parents' statutory rights. And in Gaurav Nagpal v. Sumedha Nagpal, the Court went further, saying "welfare" has to be read broadly not just financial comfort, but emotional and moral well-being too. What follows from this is straightforward, even if it's not always honored in practice: a child isn't something to be traded for a better maintenance outcome or a favorable custody order. Family courts aren't meant to be an extension of the marital fight.

The Real Danger: Litigation That Never Ends

One of the biggest problems facing family courts is how long these disputes stretch on. A single divorce petition can spiral into maintenance proceedings, then custody, then visitation, then domestic violence complaints, then property disputes, then execution proceedings, then appeals each one technically justified, each one adding to the emotional and financial toll on a family that's already struggling. The law provides all these separate remedies for good reasons. But the harder question is whether they can actually be delivered fast enough that the process of seeking justice doesn't become its own form of harm.

Beyond "Husband's Rights" vs. "Wife's Rights"

Framing family law as a tug-of-war between husbands and wives misses what courts are increasingly asked to weigh: dignity, autonomy, financial vulnerability, and the welfare of any children involved. A spouse who gave up career opportunities to run a household shouldn't be treated as automatically self-sufficient just because she happens to be educated. At the same time, someone who genuinely can't afford to pay shouldn't be ordered to hand over an amount that has no relationship to their actual finances. Finding that balance is, essentially, the whole job of the court.

The Constitutional Backdrop

Underneath all of this sits the Constitution. Article 14 guarantees equality, Article 15 bars discrimination, and Article 21 protects life and personal liberty and dignity, as courts have read it, isn't really separable from economic security. Someone coming out of a failed marriage shouldn't be pushed into poverty simply because the relationship ended. But the legal process also shouldn't become a tool for financially crushing the other spouse. The goal, in the end, is fairness not revenge.

Conclusion: The Law Should Close the Wound, Not Reopen It

Family courts handle disputes that are intensely personal people who once built a life together, children caught in the middle, financial decisions that will shape a family's future either way. The law has to walk a fine line: protecting the financially vulnerable without manufacturing dependency that isn't real, recognizing unpaid domestic work without dismissing genuine hardship on the other side, and treating children as people with their own welfare never as bargaining chips. Maintenance law was never supposed to decide who "won" a marriage. Its real job is making sure that when a marriage ends, it doesn't take a person's financial security down with it.

 

(Write to the author at rajiganesan12@gmail.com.)